


Bursts Forth In Joy

by the_sky_is_forever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, Magic, Magic-Users, Other, Pining, only one but w/e
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5205404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sky_is_forever/pseuds/the_sky_is_forever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Courfeyrac has very good control of his magic – that comes from years of practice and having to keep it a secret – but seemingly all it takes is for Jehan to touch his hand for Courfeyrac’s control to go straight out the window. "</p><p>OR: Courfeyrac is a magic user with a crush on one Jean Prouvaire. The problem is, it's getting a little hard to control his magic around Jehan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bursts Forth In Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Neruda's Your Laughter, because it's a lovely poem and why do all of Neruda's poems relate to Courfeyrac x Jehan for me?

The first time it happens Courfeyrac quickly excuses himself, leaving Jehan sitting there. Courfeyrac supposes that Jehan hadn’t noticed the vines creeping up the table and chair legs of the outdoors café that they were sitting at. Courfeyrac did though, and knows it was him. It hits him quite suddenly, the realisation that he’s in love with Jehan. And Courfeyrac has very good control of his magic – that comes from years of practice and having to keep it a secret – but seemingly all it takes is for Jehan to touch his hand for Courfeyrac’s control to go straight out the window.

The moment he notices the vines starting to climb, Courfeyrac jumps to his feet. Jehan stares at him wide-eyed and shocked. Panicked, Courfeyrac blurts, “I’m meant to be meeting Enjolras! I’m so sorry!” Jehan’s shock is still present when Courfeyrac throws a few notes onto the table and, grabbing his coat, hurries off down the street.

Courfeyrac makes it two streets away before he stops, leaning up against a wall and burying his face in his hands. Taking deep breaths Courfeyrac regains composure and attempts to come to terms with his sudden revelation.

He texts Combeferre.

 **From Courfeyrac:** I’m losing control.

 **To Courfeyrac:** Your magic? Come home.

Courfeyrac takes another few breaths and straightens up. He walks home fast, not meeting the eyes of anyone he passes on the street and doing everything he can to avoid thinking about Jehan.

Combeferre is waiting for him, sitting at the dining table reading a book and listening to music, when Courfeyrac gets home. Courfeyrac sits opposite him. He takes a deep breath as Combeferre closes his book and folds his hands, giving Courfeyrac his attention. “I’m in love with Jehan,” Courfeyrac says.

Combeferre studies him for a long moment. “Okay,” he says. “You realised and lost control for a moment?”

“No,” Courfeyrac says. “Well, yes, but they touched me, and I lost control. It was nothing bad! Just vines. I don’t think they noticed.” He frowns and lets out a gust of air. He can feel his magic in his veins. It crackles and fizzes and wooshes and sings. He rubs his arms, trying to settle.

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Combeferre says, soothingly.

“You don’t understand,” Courfeyrac says. “So, maybe it wasn’t so bad this time, but it could have been – and what about next time they touch me? What if I blow out the lights? Or make a rainbow inside? Or make something fly?”

Combeferre hums as he thinks for a moment. He says, “Well, logically, if you were to pursue this romantic relationship with Jehan, you would have to tell them.”

Courfeyrac nods, knowing it’s true. “I – I want to say something to them, but I’m afraid the rejection might kill me.”

That makes Combeferre laugh. “Always so dramatic. Is that a magic thing, or a Courfeyrac thing?”

Courfeyrac thinks about it. “It’s a love thing,” he decides. Combeferre snorts. “Besides,” Courfeyrac continues, “I think I’m allowed a little melodrama, I’m essentially a mutant. And I’m in love with the most beautiful person on the planet.”

Combeferre laughs. “Don’t let Grantaire hear you say that – they might take it upon themselves to defend Enjolras’ honour.”

“They know I don’t mean anything by it. Enjolras _is_ gorgeous, but Jehan just… _shines_.” The space around Courfeyrac gets a little brighter, as if echoing Jehan, and Combeferre raises an eyebrow at him. Courfeyrac blushes and the light fades. “Sorry,” he says.

Smiling, Combeferre shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s harmless.”

“But what if it stops being harmless?” Courfeyrac asks. “What if I blow something up because Jehan _laughs_ , for Christ’s sake.”

Looking amused, Combeferre says, “I don’t think you’re going to blow anything up. You haven’t done anything unintentionally destructive since we were five.”

Admittedly, that is true, but the knowledge that he _can_ do something destructive is present and real, and Courfeyrac can’t help but worry about it. He’ll just have to learn to stay calm around Jehan. How hard can that be?

 

The answer is: very hard. Jean Prouvaire is a wonderful person, smart, kind, funny – therefore Courfeyrac’s logical and only response to being in the same room as them is for his mind to turn to mush. He can’t think straight around them. Just this morning, Jehan grinned at him and Courfeyrac created _three butterflies_. It’s a good thing Jehan is very in love with nature, and was more excited about seeing butterflies up close than wondering where they came from. Wow, Courfeyrac’s so in love.

 

The third mishap is the worst yet, as a stranger flirts with Jehan at the Musain, and Courfeyrac accidentally causes a power cut. Everyone startles at the sudden darkness, and someone drops a glass. Combeferre gives him a long look, and Courfeyrac goes into the next room to fix it – away from Jehan so he can actually concentrate.

He then waits in the quiet room for a while, taking deep breaths, sitting on the wooden floor. Enjolras comes in and sits down opposite him, knees almost touching.

“Everything alright?” ey asks, gently.

Courfeyrac sighs. “No.”

Enjolras offers eir palm, and Courfeyrac places his own on top of it. They sit like that, in silence, while Courfeyrac grounds himself, trying to stop his body from feeling like it’s going to vibrate into pieces. If this was Combeferre, he’d wrap him in his arms and hold him tightly, but right now, all Courfeyrac needs is Enjolras’ steady quietness. When he feels something close to himself, he murmurs, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Enjolras replies, softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Their hands are still touching in between them. It’s more comforting than Enjolras probably knows.

Courfeyrac shakes his head. “Not now. Tomorrow, maybe. Go be with your partner, I’m sure they’re missing you.”

Enjolras laughs, not unkindly. “Grantaire will be fine for a little longer if you need me.”

Courfeyrac manages a smile for em. “I’m okay now. I think I might go home, though.”

“Would you like me to walk you home?” Enjolras asks.

“Thank you, but no. I’d like the time to think,” he says. He smiles. “Go back to Grantaire.” He leans forwards and presses a kiss to Enjolras’ forehead. “You’re a very good person, E.”

Enjolras grins at him. “I know,” ey says, and then gets to eir feet, holding out a hand to pull Courfeyrac up too. “Get some rest,” ey tells him. “Text me in the morning – we could grab breakfast, or brunch, together if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much,” Courfeyrac says, smiling.

He goes home, spending the entire walk thinking about Jehan and the stranger, and when he finally falls into his bed, he lies awake for hours, conjuring lights like stars on the ceiling of his bedroom. If Jehan were here, Courfeyrac would kiss them under the faux-stars. That would be nice.

 

Jehan is singing. Or maybe they’re not singing. Maybe that’s just how their voice sounds. Courfeyrac can’t remember, delirious with his cold. Jehan is sitting next to him, on top of the covers where Courfeyrac is beneath them. Courfeyrac asked them to recite him some poetry, and now he’s pretty sure that Jehan is singing.

He can feel his magic responding to the beautiful sound of Jehan’s voice and he’s too tired to stop it. It manifests in colour splashed across his walls, and Courfeyrac prays desperately that Jehan doesn’t notice until he can concentrate enough to fix it, as this is pretty unexplainable. He stares at the walls, determined to get the colours to fade, and sure enough they do, but it’s replaced with the flowers on his windowsill blooming suddenly.

He’s too tired to do anything about that, and he lets the flowers grow as he listens to Jehan sing. Or talk. Either way, he listens.

 

Lights flicker when Jehan walks into the room. Colours get brighter when Jehan smiles at him. Flowers grow where flowers shouldn’t when Jehan touches him. He’s surprised that birds don’t drift down to serenade Jehan’s every word at this point. Jehan must know that something’s up. Jehan never says anything, but they must know something’s up.

Courfeyrac stops hiding.

 

Courfeyrac is free with his affection, he grins unabashedly whenever Jehan sees him, and he takes every opportunity to spend time with Jehan alone. He cooks them dinner, takes them to the movies, and buys them flowers – though he could just grow those. His world is brighter; _he_ feels brighter. It’s a wonderful feeling, being in love. He just had to stop worrying about it and enjoy it. He’s so happy.

 

“Courfeyrac, can we talk?” Jehan asks, one day, over a cup of coffee in Courfeyrac’s kitchen. The room is bright and colourful, and the coffee tastes richer than usual. Jehan makes everything stronger – more beautiful.

Courfeyrac replies, “Are we not already?”

Jehan frowns, a crease appearing between their eyebrows. They take a gulp of the coffee and put the mug down on the table. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to not laugh or mock me. I’ve been thinking about it for a long while, and I need an answer.”

Courfeyrac, sure he knows what’s coming, puts his mug down, too. He swallows and tries not to be nervous – but this is _Jehan_ ; if anyone’s likely to believe in magic, it would be them. (Or Combeferre, but he already believes.)

“Are you a wizard?” Jehan asks, face full of sincerity.

Courfeyrac can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, and he sees Jehan become closed off and quickly answers. “No, Jehan. Well, yes, but we don’t use that term, though I suppose it could be accurate.”

“But you have magic?” Jehan asks.

“I do,” Courfeyrac replies, smiling carefully. “Would you like to see?”

Jehan nods, eagerly. Grinning, Courfeyrac leans across the table and touches Jehan’s mug of coffee with one finger. The liquid inside the cup turns bright pink, instantly, and Jehan bursts out laughing. They dart a look at Courfeyrac, and then lift the mug to their lips and takes a tentative sip. They put the mug down, expression astounded. “It still tastes like coffee!” they exclaim. Then they start to laugh, seemingly unable to stop, and Courfeyrac feels happiness bubbling up within him.

He doesn’t notice the flowers creeping up his chair until Jehan stops laughing to stare in amazement, and Courfeyrac blushes.

“What else can you do?” Jehan asks, excitement bleeding through into their voice, eyes shining, a grin adorning their face.

“Anything,” Courfeyrac replies, grinning just as wide.

And they spend the rest of the day – and long into the night – testing just that. Jehan names a flower, and Courfeyrac grows it. Jehan chooses a colour, and the walls, furniture, Jehan on one memorable moment, become that colour. Jehan throws something at Courfeyrac, and Courfeyrac either explodes the object or sends it going back in the opposite direction. (He fixes everything he breaks.)

Jehan’s smiling helplessly as Courfeyrac changes the colour of the lights to a deep blue, changing the walls and growing plants with abandon, making the room seem like an underwater world, and Courfeyrac turns to Jehan and says, “I love you.”

Jehan stops. Stills. Looks at Courfeyrac with wide eyes. The room returns to normal. In a small voice, Jehan asks, “What did you just say?”

“I said that I love you,” Courfeyrac replies, trying not to let just how terrified he is show. He swallows sharply and fights the urge to look away. The room seems to grow dark.

Jehan stares at him. “You do?” they ask. “You love me?” Their voice sounds weak, shaken.

Courfeyrac nods, hurriedly. “I love you so much, Jean Prouvaire. You can’t even imagine.”

“I think I can,” Jehan says, and takes a few bold steps in Courfeyrac’s direction. Their hands take hold of Courfeyrac’s face. Their fingers of one hand slide into Courfeyrac’s hair, while the other hand moves to rest on the back of Courfeyrac’s neck. “Courfeyrac?” they ask, softly. “May I kiss you?”

Courfeyrac lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a gasp of relief and a needy whimper. “Yes,” he says, with feeling. “ _Yes_.”

Jehan leans in and presses their lips together, eyes fluttering closed. If they’d been open, they would have seen the space around them light up with hundreds of tiny faux-stars. It doesn’t matter that they didn’t see them. They were holding each other, mouths joined and hearts singing.

Courfeyrac feels alive with his magic, but a part of him suspects that even if he had been completely average, he’d still feel that way. How could he not when he is here, holding Jehan, knowing just how much he loves them and they love him. He is _alive_. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed it. sorry it's so short haha :)
> 
> I have a writing blog: theskyis-forever come say hi and leave a prompt :)  
> Also, if you enjoyed this: [buy me a coffee?](http://ko-fi.com/A831F9U)
> 
> EDIT: [LOOK!! ART!!](http://nerds-are-cool.tumblr.com/post/144044960476/angrymenatemptytables-courfeyrac-has-very) BASED OFF THIS FIC!! I'M CRYING!! thank you so much to Franka (angrymenatemptytables on tumblr and courfee on AO3 for drawing this i'm so happy it's beautiful thank you <3 - this art is a picture of Courfeyrac and Jehan at the table when the vines climb up around Courfeyrac's chair.
> 
> SECOND EDIT: [MORE ART](http://nerds-are-cool.tumblr.com/post/152807401466/angrymenatemptytables-the-space-around) BASED OFF THIS FIC!! thank you again to Franka for doing this it's absolutely beautiful and I'm so happy thank you thank you - this piece is of when Courfeyrac is talking about how Jehan "shines" and how in love with them he is to Combeferre.
> 
> THIRD EDIT: [MORE ART!!](http://nerds-are-cool.tumblr.com/post/157144382391/just-this-morning-jehan-grinned-at-him-and) Franka's just spoiling me at this point - this time it's Jehan admiring the butterflies.


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